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XXXIII.

A VISION OF TIME.

NEW-YEAR'S EVE.

O did you not see him that over the snow
Came on with a pace so cautious and slow?--

That measured his step to a pendulum-tick,
Arriving in town when the darkness was thick?

In the midst of a vision of mind and heart,
A drama above all human art,

I saw him last night, with locks so gray,
A long way off, as the light died away.

And I knew him at once, so often before
Had he silently, mournfully passed at my door.

He must be cold and weary, I said,
Coming so far, with that measured tread.

I will urge him to linger awhile with me
Till his withering chill and weariness flee.

A story--who knows?--he may deign to rehearse,
And when he is gone I will put it in verse.

I turned to prepare for the coming guest,
With curious, troublous thoughts oppressed.

The window I cheered with the taper's glow
Which glimmered afar o'er the spectral snow.

My anxious care the hearth-stone knew,
And the red flames leaped and beckoned anew.

But chiefly myself, with singular care,
Did I for the hoary presence prepare.

Yet with little success, as I paced the room,
Did I labor to banish a sense of gloom.

My thoughts were going and coming like bees,
With store from the year's wide-stretching leas;

Some laden with honey, some laden with gall,
And into my heart they dropped it all!

O miserable heart! at once overrun
With the honey and gall thou can'st not shun.

O wretched heart! in sadness I cried,
Where is thy trust in the Crucified?

And in wrestling prayer did I labor long
That the Mighty One would make me strong.

That prayer was more than a useless breath:
It brought to my soul God's saving health.

The hours went by on their drowsy flight,
And came the middle watch of the night;

In part unmanned in spite of my care,
I beheld my guest in the taper's glare,

A wall of darkness around him thick,
As onward he came to a pendulum-tick.

Then quickly I opened wide the door,
And bade him pass my threshold o'er,

And linger awhile away from the cold,
And repeat some story or ballad old,--

His weary limbs to strengthen with rest,
For his course to the ever-receding West.

Through the vacant door in wonder I